


Honor..

by cyndrarae



Series: To love, honor and obey.. [2]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Comics/Movie Crossover, Domestic Discipline, F/M, First Time, M/M, Morlocks - Freeform, Polyamory, Some elements from the comics borrowed, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-22 20:39:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9624422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyndrarae/pseuds/cyndrarae
Summary: Sequel to “To Love..” - Logan’s POV on the new polyamory arrangement between himself, Scott and Jean, and how it takes a guest appearance (or four) by the Morlocks to make the damn thing work. Sorta.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Starts off where "To Love" ends so need to read that one first. Words in //..// are thoughts or mental communication. Very much OOC, blatant movie-plus-comic-AU etc. And yes there is spanking, but it's more domestic discipline than sexual kink, and not as intense as in the first part.  
> Not new. Just porting over from LJ. This was written a long, long, LOOONG time ago, back when I didn't bother with all this grammar nonsense. Consider yourself warned okay? :) *facepalm*

 

What’s your color?  
  
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mean no race or creed or political affiliation. I mean, like, Marie - she’s like the snow now, ain’t she. White. Pure, untouched, a perfect picture of everything fair and beautiful. Guess Ice cube sees it too. I bet if her daddy was around, he’d rest easy knowing she wasn’t gonna get mauled on dates. He’d also weep his heart out for a daughter who’ll never know the warmth of human touch again.

Ah hell, human anything is overrated if you ask me… okay maybe not. Hell, good thing _I_ ain't her dad.  
  
No sir. Am not.  
  
Then there’s the other woman in my life - Red.  
  
Hot, sizzling waves of deep wine red, of her long hair and the fire in her eyes. Of her lips, like the furious blush of a rising sun, or even a setting one. Doc is everything a man hopes for in his woman. Her great passion for… everything really, burns everyone she touches, every mind she strokes. All that power, so deeply hidden I doubt even she knows it's there.

Jean’s red.  
  
Jean is all he sees.  
  
All he knows, all he’s ever wanted…

 

**//**//**

 

“Bite me.”  
  
“I think I’ll pass, thank you.”  
  
“Fine, then let me.”  
  
“You’re such a canine. Why do we call Hank the beast? You’re the beast.”  
  
“Fuck Hank, let's go home.”  
  
“Oh I don’t think so.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“Have you seen how huge and furry his paws are? Which isn’t exactly a _bad_ thing strictly speaking…”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“You know now that I’m actually considering it, Hank’s not so revolting after all. Least he doesn’t stink like you do.”  
  
“Doc your boy is askin’ for it again.”  
  
She pretends to be mildly amused and kicks the bottle she’d been clinging to all night. Intervenes right when I was about to bang my head in frustration, or maybe his, hadn’t quite decided which yet.  
  
Sudden rush of… envy I guess, and possessiveness washes through me when she holds him. Nor do I bother to _not_ project it to her. It passes quickly enough, but leaves us wondering if we’d ever overcome it. We didn’t know. I imagine she also suffered a mild case of repressed anger, and um, wounded pride? I had been toying with her, this she now knows. Oh she was one majorly pissed off psyionic. And that night when I glanced across Scott’s quivering body in my arms at Jean Grey, for a second I thought her eyes flared red. I shit you not.  
  
She kisses his mouth fully, rubs his aching butt so slowly, and sensually, knowing I’m watching. And I hold on to the kid tightly, make lewd suggestions as part of our usual banter, knowing she’s listening.

Yeah I’d been using her, so what?  
  
Flirting with Jean was, well, mostly my way to deny the conflicting… um… feelings I was having for her partner. Her very decidedly masculine partner, despite the softness of his voice, the elegance of his hands, the mysterious depths of his eyes. Not to mention that body, so lithe and so delicious I could… man I could feast on him forever.  
  
Scott.  
  
Haven’t pinned him with a color yet.   
  
Anyway. Jean yeah. So there she is glaring at me the same time that she’s frenching the boy. And then I hear her in my head.  
  
//Only for Scott. _Only_ for Scott.//

 Works for me.

 

**//**//**

  
So let me tell you my version of events. Don't whine at me later I never gave you nothin'.

I was attracted to her the first time I saw her; then I envied her when I saw who she was with. That first time I saw them together, in the garage, so quietly he’d slipped his one hand between both of hers, in the middle of a fucking class full of children. And they say I have no sense of propriety.  
  
How I ached to hold his hand in both of mine, how I cringed from his indifference.  
  
Once I accidentally came upon Cyclops… oh alright, so I knew he worked out in the Danger Room every fucking night. To cut a long and embarrassing story short, he rejected my advances. You know I’m hardly a class act, just go for what I want. But I can be particularly persuasive when I want. So that night, with this guy, I actually made an effort. Finger-combed by hair back and everything.

Not that it did me any good.  
  
Said he was a damn 'heterosexual' and with Jean, and did not want it any other way and all that shit. Quite a convincing act he put up, except he forgot one minor detail.  
  
I could smell his arousal from twenty feet away.  
  
Next night, I locked the Danger room behind us, indulged his sparring for a while then knocked him over and pinned him to the ground beneath me. Zero millimeters away and there was no question about it - yep, the kid wanted me as bad as I him. But his sense of loyalty and - damn it - _love_  for the good doctor kept him from reaching out, taking what he desperately craved. What I was so desperate to give.  
  
He struggled to get away and it could've been so damn easy to press into him that much harder, silence his protesting lips with my own. But I let him go, I did. Guess I admired him for the qualities I don’t know if I’ve myself ever had. Love. Loyalty. Yeah, I was going soft in the head alright.  
  
I visited him three nights in a row, keeping my distance, acting with decency and getting fucking nowhere. Swallowing of pride doesn’t come easy to The Wolverine you know. So the fourth night I stayed away from the Danger Room, resolved not to allow the pretty boy to wield this… power over me any more.  
  
Next day, to my absolute delight (and relief) I noticed Cyke was actually sulking. Endearing as that was, I decided not to push my luck. So I started going again, relishing his proximity during those nightly sessions as much as I’m sure he did mine.  
  
Those were times we never argued the way we did by day. Simply ‘cause there was no one around to pretend for. Most nights we’d work out in silence, some nights we’d actually talk. Well, he’d talk and I’d listen. He can go on and on, did you know that? He’d discuss upcoming missions, new kids and their powers. Which ones to focus on, see who could be trained for the X-Men and shit. And he’d ask me what I thought and two times out of ten I’d not just shrug a ‘whatever’ but actually tell him what I thought.

Oh yeah, those nights I’d actually take a more than passing interest in what went on in the mansion besides the missions. But the conversations never got personal. No Jean, no family, no life histories and I was grateful for that. We were flirting in our own way – sweating, punching, kicking. He’d probably resigned himself to making the most out of those sessions alone. But I could not.  
  
I just ain't the compromising type.  
  
The heat from his body, his fresh lingering scent, his barely bit back grins every time he went one up on me, his ragged breathing on my face every time we got close, night after night after frustrating night, drove me crazy until I couldn’t stand it no more. That was when I started pushing again.  
  
“You’re scared shitless.”  
  
“You’re entitled to your opinions.”  
  
“I won't hurt ya kid, trust me.”  
  
“It's not me I’m worried about.”  
  
A quiet confession that spoke volumes of his quiet strength. Strength that became my weakness.  
  
Every instinct of survival I’ve ever owned screamed at me to bail… to just get the fuck away from the freak’s home and that would be the end of this torture. And for the first time in fifteen years, I didn’t listen.  
  
Then there was desperation and then there was anger. I wonder how Scott explained to Jean the bleeding gash at the back of his skull from that time I rammed him hard, too hard, against a wall. Good thing he was keeping his mental guards against her up those days.  
  
“You can't hide behind Jean all your life, Slim,” I whispered hoarsely as I pressed him deeper into the wall.   
  
“I love her.”  
  
“Sure about that?”  
  
A hand abandoned his collar to grope him over his sweats hard before I could stop myself. His face twisted, with pain of being betrayed by his own body. Hurt that I was violating him when he’d trusted me not to, his voice sharper than a snake’s hiss.  
  
“She’s my fiancee. She will be my wife.”  
  
“And what the hell am I?”  
  
Don’t know, don’t ask me why I said that. Don’t ask me why it was suddenly so important for me to be fucking acknowledged. I squeezed harder. It took him a while to speak through the haze of pain and arousal I had successfully trapped him in.  
  
“You’re… an inconvenient distraction. You’ll leave, and you won't matter anymore…”  
  
He was deliberately trying to enrage me, put me off so I would leave him alone for good. Or maybe he was really worried that I’d leave? My fist around him melted into gentle stroking and he gasped harshly. But he didn’t shove me off.  
  
“I ain't leavin' kid. And I will NOT give you up.”  
  
The red glow behind his glasses died, and I felt irrationally abandoned in the dark. Cyclops has had lots of practice withdrawing behind that silent mask of his. I knew he would use this time to recompose himself, then casually walk away from me like I hadn’t been fondling him the past minute and he hadn’t been letting me. Nope, couldn’t have any of that. I needed that glow back. I squeezed again, hard, and he struggled.  
  
“Jean’s your excuse, isn’t she? What if I take her away from you, Cyke? What will you do then?”  
  
I felt more than saw his scrunched up eyes open and flash red with an anger that was… oddly stimulating. It was _something_ , something other than the blank rigid stares he’d usually fix me with. He shook from head to toe with unadulterated rage, shoved at me with all his strength. Then described me in a particularly obscene vocabulary I didn’t think the kid was capable of, punched the living daylights out of me, and left.

We never sparred nights after that.  
  
I sat on the floor where I’d fallen and watched him go, smirking through a bruised but rapidly healing jaw. That night, I learnt to appreciate the fine and truly orgasmic art of provocation of a certain Scott Summers.

 

**//**//**

  
  
“Asshole.”  
  
“Dickhead.”  
  
“Illiterate geriatric.”  
  
“Juvenile delinquent.”  
  
All that rage, all that sexual frustration… prettily disguised with sharp words and empty threats, stinging insults. Jean became a contention not just because it was expected of two alpha men as us, more so because she was _the_ reason, still is, why Scott will never be mine.  
  
Not completely.  
  
So when a depressed and unbelievably inebriated Jean Grey asks me to… wow… _spank_ her boyfriend in front of her, damn it how could I not?  
  
The little contact I once had with him during those workout sessions had ended months ago. How could I now pass up on the opportunity to feel Scott so close, so intimately? To vent all that anger I’d suppressed so long - for rejecting me, for teasing me with his very presence, his scent… his luscious body. For all the sleepless nights and early morning boners. For all the disturbing _emotions_ he provokes out of me that are stronger than lust, and deeper than want, fiercer than any desire I’ve ever felt?

Truth is, I'd been reduced from the mighty Wolverine to this pathetic wimp of a defense instructor living in a school full of children! I used to be a loner, a fearsome beast prowling the cold wild. And what am I now? A fucking babysitter that’s what. I couldn’t even bring myself to leave ‘cause just the thought of him going out alone on dangerous missions, risking his life without me there to… to…  
  
Damn it!  
  
He was responsible, he ought to pay.  
  
To Jean who obviously wasn’t thinking too straight, it was a twisted last ditch effort to get her boyfriend back. Fuck that. Hey I’m no saint okay? All I wanted was to touch Scott, to hold Scott, punish Scott for what he was putting both himself and me through.  
  
To hurt him like lovers usually do, make him _need_ me back.  
  
Obviously his policy of ‘repress and it shall go away’ wasn’t working too well on his girlfriend either, I’d seen Jean and Scott grow apart steadily each day and couldn’t help quietly cheering… waiting for my opportunity to move in. This in all probability, was it.  
  
Okay so I didn’t intend for it to go on as long and as hard as it did.

But it was her game, she started it. He’s a hard one to break, though have to admit feeling him squirm and writhe in my lap with such desperate frenzy… it felt… hot, and incredibly sexy. The supple smoothness of his butt beneath my coarse hands, the slender but perfect roundness of his cheeks, warm soft skin… no tan lines, natural gold all over.  
  
Goddess he’s beautiful (yeah I’m channeling Ororo this week).  
  
And to have him helplessly upturned over my knees, only made them weaker. Both his hands in one of mine, fingers clutched into such stubborn fists. And the crazy heat at every part of my body touching his. Those precious few moments are still stark vivid in my mind. I felt hot, and restless and painfully turned on, I felt mesmerized and powerful. I felt carnal and possessive, like Scott _belonged_ to me. And that I was wholly and solely responsible for this utterly exquisite, utterly defenseless child. A child who in the last few months had pushed everyone away and alienated himself… from everyone who cared about him, Jean… me…  
  
Couldn’t care less for her, I just had to bring Cyke back, back to myself. Even if it meant giving him the thrashing of his life.  
  
But when his suppressed whimpers and violent shivering registered and broke through my obsessive reverie, I didn’t want him hurting anymore. Jean wouldn’t stop and I couldn’t go on.  
  
Scott couldn’t possibly describe what he felt that night even if he tried, which he isn’t likely to do anyway. He goes all red and fidgety if we bring it up at all, which I adore but he hates so we don't. Never mind his eventual hard-on, that most likely happened ‘cause he was all pressed up against my own, rather intimate you see, and later probably he reacted to the mixed sensations of pain and soothing caresses on his highly sensitized backside.  
  
He hated being vulnerable like that. But that very vulnerability finally threw him open for both Jean and me to get through. All the pain he’d been keeping from her, and all the yearning he was holding down for me broke through his careful front, broke him down. Jean was sober in an instant, I was humbled and overwhelmed with a sentiment so intense, the word ‘love’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.  
  
Uh-uh, that’s what I said. I know… hell its weird. Freakishly weird. But it’s true. Here I’ll say it again - Love.  
  
“Jean please… I… I’m sorry… I love you, with all my heart…”  
  
That hurt. Very much. He wanted me, but he still loved her.  
  
“When… after he came… I d-don’t know… I don’t know what happened… I was too ashamed, scared if you f-found out… if you read it in m-my thoughts…”  
  
That pretty much said it all didn’t it. Doc was a mess, I bet she was blasting herself brutally for having been so blind and vain and complacent.  
  
//Go on say it! // She screamed from inside my brain. // Some _fucking_ telepath I am!!//  
  
I kept my trap shut.  
  
Okay so I wasn’t exactly a huge fan of Jeannie right then but I _am_ territorial and, well, she happens to come with the territory. I felt for her, I _got_ her. I knew why she went all loopy and got piss drunk then got me to take it all out on her lover. But hell we were both wrong. She and I were both guilty of the same crime - selfishness. We’d both been too self-absorbed in what we wanted out of Scott to see what we were putting _him_ through. He was torn between his lifelong love for her and newfound feelings for me that he’d had no experience with whatsoever. He was young and he was scared and did the only thing he thought was right, and all I did was make his life hell every time he stepped out of his room. All Jean did was fret about how he wasn’t fulfilling her emotional needs.  
  
Together we broke him, we needed to put him back together again.  
  
Love. Guilt. Rage. Lust. I was too warped to think straight. I only remember feeling content holding a surprisingly pliant Cyclops in my arms, resting his head on my chest, burying my chin in his soft auburn crown. All the fight had gone out of him, he only wanted to feel safe and loved and maybe… forgiven. Consoled me immensely to know I could give this comfort to him. I massaged his arms that he left limply twisted like they were still bound behind him. And I rocked him gently, don’t know where that came from but at the time it seemed the most natural thing to do.  
  
I could've rocked him forever.  
  
I kissed his blindfolded face, just barely brushing his lips with mine. Unbelievable how intensely I could feel the heat at every inch of my body touching his.  
  
Scott had obviously underestimated his partner’s feelings for him, thinking she’d feel betrayed and dump him or something. But Jean surprised me with a single lift of a perfectly shaped eyebrow toward Scott’s lower anatomy.  
  
“Logan.”  
  
The kid didn’t see it, eyes tightly closed and all, and reflexively curled up into me anticipating a hateful outburst to follow in her velvet voice. I drew him closer to myself, think I was trying to hide him from her myself, from the whole damn world. But when I looked up to meet her eyes and caught a glimpse of what shone through her unshed tears…  
  
Could it really be that simple? Would Jean really?  
  
//Would you really…?//  
  
“Don’t you want to do something about that?”

 

**//**//**

 

Oh hey, we’re mutants alright. We were born freaks. Besides who the hell cares what the world thinks. I could tell you and Jean will agree when I say this – Scott smiles more now than before. Sometimes for no reason at all, sometimes when he thinks no one’s watching. That amazing smile… any potential plans I may have had to leave hereby stand thwarted. For good. But you know things didn’t quite work out when we began. Fact is, the whole situation got fairly confusing fairly quickly.  
  
When Scott sat down to pull his other shoe on (and judging by the look on his face probably waiting for the other shoe to drop), Jean and I locked eyes.  
  
//Are we really going to do this Doc?//  
  
//He loves you//  
  
Did he? I knew _I_   did.  
  
//No, he loves you.//  
  
She did not respond to that. We tied Cyke’s beloved bike on top of his beloved Hummer and I took the wheel. Jean managed to _think_ herself back to sobriety, however the fuck that works.  
  
She trusts me with X-Men stuff sure, and she knows she can trust me with Cyke any day. But she didn’t know how to share him with me. I didn’t know how to share period. And Cyke didn’t know what to say or do or even feel, the usually stoic demeanor was in shambles. He hardly said much on the ride back home though, preferring to sit in the back and stare out the window with his visor firmly on, face turned away from us. He had tied his brown suede jacket round the waist so it wouldn’t be too obvious that most of the buttons on his fly were missing. Crossed arms, spine straight, feet set apart solidly, his composure shaken but not stirred. Sat pretty still for the most part, but now and then he'd just have to squirm which he'd do surreptitiously but I noticed anyway. And I felt so torn between wanting to grin and tease him a bit, and wanting to get into the backseat myself and soothe the sting away. And he’d turn toward us now and then, as if to assure us he was still there, or maybe the other way round… and he’d smile. That vintage Scott Summers smile, ever beautiful, ever hesitant… ever apologetic.  
  
As I drove through the iron gates of the X-Mansion, Jean brushed my mind.  
  
//Take him to your room.//  
  
I panicked. Don’t ask me why, I just did.  
  
//No, not tonight.//  
  
There was utter silence at the other end, which did not break until we stopped and Scott got out.  
  
//Are you sure?//  
  
Yes. No. God I so wanted him! I chanced a sideways glance at Doc, the quiet pillar of strength that Scott leaned on and was hopelessly incomplete without. They needed time to mend their relationship before I jumped in and made things worse. He needed her more than I needed him.  
  
//Yeah. Take good care of him Doc. He’s mine too… //  
  
That didn’t go down so well with her, but she smiled bravely. Scott stood outside, his arms crossed again hugging himself in that deceiving stance he hopes everyone sees as intimidating and standoffish. I watched him gaze at me in confusion as Jean started to lead him away. I nodded at him to go on, and he did. I went to my room and my bed alone, tossin’ and turnin’… imagining sounds of passionate love-making from way, way down the hall.  
  
I burned.  
  
The next evening, Jean asked us if we wanted to go catch some stupid flick. Three of us together. Now that really ain’t my thing, nor did I understand why it was mandatory to take your dates out to the movies. But she _was_ making an effort here, least I could do was appreciate that. Turns out she was more sincere about this than I thought - backed out at the last minute leaving me and Scott together, alone for the first time since our 'coming out' last night.  
  
Awkward, nervous, that night I understood the significance of movie theaters in a new relationship. You need the Dolby surround sound effects to fill up the early silences, need the darkness to pretend your caresses are unintended and the anonymity of a crowd to avoid being judged. I wondered how much Scott could enjoy a movie in nothing but shades of red.  
  
He looked happy enough to me.  
  
Now here’s the shocker - we did not… that is I did not… we didn’t do it for the whole week. Guess I was too relieved just being allowed into his life, and I was actually hesitant to make any moves that could possibly upset Jeannie or this insane new arrangement. Apparently she felt the same way. Jean and me, we’d _both_ backed off, wanting to honor the other’s space and everything assuming Cyke wanted the other one more anyway.  
  
And in the process, we left him alone between us.  
  
He sorta understood what was going on, but I imagine he was also feeling more and more hurt and unwanted with each passing day. He must've thought we were both like mad at him or something.

By end of week, the object of our combined affections was a cranky, stuttering, grumbling bundle of nerves. Scott is the shy passive kind, except in battle of course. Even there he’s bigger on defense than offense, gets it from Chuck obviously. Unfortunately when it comes to people, he cannot strategize his moves just as well and that he’s got in common with moi.  
  
He would sigh quietly if I shifted away, or bite his lip hard when I’d break up a kiss he was enjoying, and I was enjoying way too much if you know what I mean. Heck I did kiss him lots, and I held him… lots. And I did it not just 'cause Cyke can be such a _girl_. No, I did it for me as much as I did it for him. But it was obvious he wanted more, hoping I’d take more initiative. Be the aggressor he knew me to be. Me… I just… I didn’t… damn it, okay, I admit.  
  
Now _I_   was scared shitless.  
  
“Logan. Can I talk to you?”  
  
Jeannie pulled me out of a very fulfilling session with the sandbag and I wasn’t too happy about it. She took no time to issue her ultimatum.  
  
“If you didn’t want him why the hell did you take him away from me??”  
  
Woah. “Wha-?”  
  
“He thinks you’ve changed your mind about him.”  
  
I didn't believe her, so I looked her straight in the eyes. "He say that to you?"  
  
She looked right back into mine. "He didn't have to."  
  
“…”  
  
“…”  
  
“You know that’s not true.”  
  
She nodded curtly, not meeting my eye. “Let him know. Tonight.”  
  
And she was gone.  
  
That night we walked for hours... um, holding hands in the forests behind the mansion. We can always talk when no one else is around. And tonight, thanks probably to a couple of beers, he wasn’t holding back at all. He told me about his life - dead parents and a lost brother, short stint as a street urchin, the father figure he found in Xavier, and the one and only relationship in all his adolescent plus adult years. A relationship of eight years and counting. I was wrong to think he couldn’t be an initiator, he’d spent an incredible amount of time and energy courting Jean, convincing her to accept him, a guy six years her junior.  
  
“I think my life truly started after Charles found me, twelve years ago.”  
  
“How old were ya?”  
  
“Fourteen.”  
  
I nodded, wondering if it was weird for Jeannie watching a kid grow up before your eyes then having that same kid profess his undying love for you. Cyke sighed through his nose, digging his free hand in a jacket pocket and lowering his head, lost in memories of what probably was the most significant time in his life. A fringe fell over covering half his shades. I wanted so bad to pull ‘em off and look into his eyes. Jean once said they were blue…  
  
“Do you remember where you were twelve years ago?”  
  
“…”  
  
Sure I did. In a fucking fight cage, ripping some guy’s intestines out because if I didn’t, he would try to get mine.  
  
“It's okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”  
  
Damn. I ignored the memories and went to hold him to myself. We stood close to the lake and it shimmered. I breathed in the cool breeze playing in his soft hair, the scent of descending autumn mixed with his freshness of lemons and cedar. It was intoxicating.  
  
“There isn’t much to talk about.”  
  
I said, my hands rubbing his shoulders down. I thought back to the last night I’d spent inside a cage.  
  
“I’d say my new life began the night I found Marie…”  
  
“She says _she_ found you. And that she saved you.”  
  
“Yeah right,” I grunted.  
  
She did save me, just not that night.  
  
He looked up at me and smirked. “And here I was hoping at last you’d thank me for saving your ass that night.”  
  
“I could… right now… if you let me.”  
  
He drew closer and we kissed but not before he quietly whispered, “About damn time.”  
  
Weeks, no, months of pent-up desire poured out from my lips into his. He let me in and I lost myself in the sweet tender warmth that is Scott’s mouth. He has the mouth of a woman I tell ya, expressive and lovely when he lets it, cruel and teasing when he doesn’t. It is breathtaking and truly painful to see those lips move from afar, even more so when they move against your own. Soft red lips that tempt and torment, encouraging me to lose the mask that hides the feral within.  
  
I was manic as I pulled his jacket off him… possessed, shredding his shirt to wires and wasted no time pulling his entire length back against mine. Hands roved with a will of their own over his body and his over mine, finding places we barely remembered having as the brutal kiss went on and on. I haven’t kissed anyone like that in a long, long time. Somehow I ended up lowering him to the ground trapping his slimmer form beneath mine. I pushed his wrists down by the sides of his head and he gasped as I tugged and finally pulled his jeans and boxers away. He craned upwards to keep our lip-lock going but I couldn’t wait. I just had to see him, touch him, and when I did he opened his legs asking for more.  
  
Holy mother…  
  
I remembered the last time I’d cupped his manhood in my hand. I also remembered the other, softer, feminine hand that had held him the same way I had. God, I winced. I must have been pretty damn obvious because Cyke raised his head.  
  
“Logan what’s wrong?”  
  
What’s wrong? Could I tell him? Could I tell him I didn’t want anyone else touching him ever again? Could I tell him he was mine only mine damn it!?!  
  
Yeah right. Instead I did what I could.  
  
All speech and concern was lost the moment I engulfed him with my mouth. He’s well endowed and yet there simply wasn’t enough of him to satisfy the growling hunger I felt deep in the pit of soul. I sucked him for an eternity, hard and fast like I like it. Who knew the mighty field leader could curse like that? He was loud and uninhibited and his rigorous squirms were rewarding enough. I went on and on and didn’t stop till he’d come twice and with a scream, each time. When I slid back up to kiss him full, his arms went around me, pulling me down to rest awhile, but I wouldn’t. Rather couldn’t…  
  
I couldn’t wait to bury myself deep within him, mark his body as mine, erase the shuddering memory of the woman who still owned his heart.  
  
I shrugged his hands off to roughly flip him onto his stomach. Cyke naked is a sight to behold. Those slender shoulder bones jutting out and that slim waist blooming out into those perfect curves of his butt… damn Cyke is sex personified and he didn’t even know it. Tremors racked his spine when I gripped his pert right cheek none too gently. In my selfish urgent need I forgot something, and the proud bastard that he is, didn’t bother to remind or stop me either.  
  
It was Scott’s first time, and I was being a selfish, insensitive prick.  
  
I stretched myself on top of him, let my teeth closed round the flesh at the back of his neck. When a predator grabs you by the scruff of your neck you gotta stay still. One hand continued to knead the beautiful ass below.  
  
“L-Logan.”  
  
“Hmm…”  
  
“What you did that night, I… I don’t… please don’t do that.”  
  
I stilled, I cursed myself. I sniffed him – the fear wasn’t palpable but definitely there. Hell he was trembling with it and I hadn’t noticed! Goddamnit, this wasn’t some nameless fuck in the back of some nameless bar, this was Scott.  
  
My Scott.  
  
In that moment, I felt myself making the transition back from Wolverine to Logan, wondering when and how the hell did I get there in the first place. My hands melted and ever so slowly I turned him back over to face me, wishing for the millionth time I could look into his eyes. I kissed him, softly this time, my arms going round his torso and pulling him closer into myself. You wouldn't say so looking at his tightly toned, muscled body, but I see a certain waif-like quality to him that I find extremely sexy but am sure he’d take great offence to, so don’t ever mention it. This was also the first time he’d brought up the spanking. Sure I’d mentioned it many a times myself, but that was just ribbing him. Scintillating as it may have been for me, I knew he dreaded it with all his heart, if not the rest of his body.  
  
Yeah. Don’t mention that either.  
  
“I wasn’t going to.”  
  
Relieved, he tried to smile, wondering at the sudden change of pace… not sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
I kissed him again and we lay together a long time, stroking, caressing, nibbling, until the anxiety passed but his confusion grew. Which soon manifested into fidgeting.  
  
“Um, don’t you want to…”  
  
“Shh… how about a dip in the lake?”  
  
The smile broke through this time, and he frowned in surprise.  
  
“You serious?”  
  
“C’mon it's not that cold.”  
  
I grinned back, and jumped up to strip. He sat up staring after me utterly perplexed while at the same time checking me out up and down. I pulled him up to his feet and then tugged him towards the lake. He laughed, his magical laughter.  
  
“What the hell are you up to, old man?”  
  
When we were about four steps away from the edge of the pier, he stopped as if he’d just realized what we were about to do. Consciously he looked around to see if anyone was watching and I rolled my eyes.  
  
“Wuss.”  
  
“I was just… hey!!”  
  
He didn’t get far ‘cause I scooped him up and he let out a big undignified squeal that I relished. Dropped him into the water and dived in just as he uprighted himself. We laughed and we splashed each other and we played in the water, naked and carefree as newborns. Shit I can't believe I actually did that, but gotta admit it was so much fun. So liberating and so… fulfilling to simply hold him and kiss him and just watch him, glistening in the moonlight. I did not fuck Scott that night.  
  
I made love to him.

 

**//**//**

   
  
By end of second week, I was sleeping less fitfully and Scott couldn’t keep his eyes open in class. Well, at least he wasn’t grumbling and cranky and stuttering in front of his students anymore. That he completely loathed by the way. I soon realized what a perfectionist he is… which would explain the crisp blue shirts, the perfect fit trousers, geeky cardigans that looked like Xavier’s hand-me-downs, the spotless shine on his bike the squeaky clean room the irritatingly well organized files in irritatingly well organized drawers…  
  
A regular fucking boy scout.  
  
The transition from Scott to Cyclops is so mind-boggling you won't believe it unless you see it with your own eyes. One moment, when with me or Doc he’d be like this, this _kid_ , full of relentless energy, enthusiastic and mischievous and so eager to please… like he lets his guard down completely. And then in rolls the professor or some student and suddenly his spine goes buck straight, an expressionless mask falls in place and if you listen for it, you’d know his voice drops two notches as well. Totally freaked me out the first time I saw him do that.  
  
But I know now what it takes to be the fucking flag bearer of Xavier’s mutant revolution. As his first student and right hand guy, he has been entrusted with the responsibility to provide leadership and strong steadfastness that Xavier himself could rely on. Cyclops the X-Man is not the kid I adore and feel responsible for back in the solace of our quarters. Out on the field and in front of our not-so-wellwishers, he is the leader I follow and the commander I respect. And I always will.  
  
Now, given his obsessive compulsive tendencies, is it any surprise he also has an annoyingly hyper-active conscience?  
  
Jeannie and me got into this mental game of negotiations ‘bout who got to be with Scott when. Scott wasn’t burdened with making that decision because he obviously wasn’t very comfortable in letting any one of us down. In fact, and we realized this kinda late, he was eating himself away with guilt. He thought he was being selfish, that he was putting Jean and me through a lot of mental torture, which was… well, sorta true but not entirely. The possessiveness remained, the odd one went to ridiculous lengths not to run into the other two together. I agreed to chaperone a trip to the damn art gallery for the infamous tenth graders, how about that.  
  
And he continued the self-censure despite everything we said. Well, everything Jean said. He never spoke to me about it, and likewise I never brought it up ‘cause far as I was concerned, it was a total non-issue. Jean and me, we’d accept Scott anyway we got him. But he didn’t see that. I should have known the dickhead that he is, he just wouldn’t let it go.  
  
Guess the last straw was when Jean once walked in on us in the garage. It was nighttime, there were no kids around and we were very quiet mind you. At least I was. Scott was bare-assed and draped over the chassis of Xavier's black Porsche. And I was standing behind him, holding him in place by the back of his neck, thrusting into him leisurely. That's how she found us, sweet fucking Jesus.

She gasped, then he gasped, then pushed me off just as she was apologizing and turning to leave. I rested my butt on the floor where it’d been deported to by his panic attack, dick still up and all, while he pulled his pants back up. For a second he just stood there, blushing as red as his glasses, wondering what the hell to do. He probably didn’t notice me snickering away but then again maybe he did.  
  
I stopped.  
  
“Let her be, Slim.”  
  
“…”  
  
“…”  
  
He wasn't going to listen. I tucked me in and stood up.  
  
“Slim… stay…”  
  
Before I could reach him, Cyke took off running after her. I have no idea what happened between the two of them, that’s right I did not bother to ask. I was too pissed off, such impeccable timing that woman has. All I know, is that before the Porsche incident at least Doc and I could talk and generally mingle like everyday mutants. But after that night just being around one another became just that bit harder.  
  
Hey, it's not like she didn’t know we were fucking, for fuck’s sake.  
  
Women I tell ya.  
  
And then one fine day, the almighty Cyclops embarked upon this holy crusade to get me and Jean together. 'Complete the triangle' so to speak.  
  
“Stop it Slim, I don’t wanna hear it.”  
  
“Logan the two of you can't stay in the same room at a time, it is awkward and embarrassing for everyone around and especially me. This has got to stop.”  
  
“Don’t exaggerate kid, we’re just fine.”  
  
“No, we’re not! Bobby asked me the other day what was up with you and Grey.”  
  
Marie had asked me the same thing and I brushed it off. No one knew about our new three-way (but not really) arrangement. They still saw me and Cyke biting each other’s head off in public every chance we got. But I bet they also noticed me and Doc shooting ice cold daggers at one another from maximum possible distances.  
  
What the hell was I supposed to do? Doc was pissed off at me, and I at her. Why? Because every moment the kid was not with me, he was with her, that’s why! And vice versa, and that was reason enough. I could understand why this was killing Scott but there was not one damn thing I could do about it. We’d made our choices, now we had to live with them.  
  
“Kids had better keep out of business that ain't theirs.”  
  
“Logan come on, you could at least try… see if you guys can reach common ground somewhere?”  
  
Had to smile at that. It was after midnight and just the two of us in our PJs (well he was, I don't have night clothes) snacking in the kitchen. I reached out, grabbed him by his ears to pull him close and kissed him thoroughly, ending with a loud and shamelessly girly ‘smack’.  
  
“We do have something in common kid… _you_.”  
  
Scott shook himself back to full senses and persisted, “You know what I mean.”  
  
I scowled and let go of him.  
  
“Look Cyke, I really REALLY doubt Doc would go for threesomes, agreed she’s not above the occasional discipline scene…”  
  
“Fuck you, man.”  
  
He flushed a bright red and turned away. So didn’t like to be reminded of that momentous night at the bar. Inwards I chuckled but started to make amends right away.  
  
“Hey, sorry alright. I was kidding! Come here.”  
  
He refused to face me, standing with his fists on his hips and I had to whirl him around to gather him in a tight hug. He struggled but it was my turn to persist until he gave up. I pecked at his neck and hair and rubbed his back, wishing he’d just let the whole thing go.  
  
For the record, I knew Scott was not talking about a threesome as in… _threesome_ threesome you know, hell he probably didn’t know himself what he was asking for. Whatever it was, I couldn’t give it to him. It's not like I’m averse to the idea, I’ve had some experiences in my time, but no. This was not a threesome-friendly situation at all… this was way different. And definitely not as trivial. I loved Scott, and God knows how I hated having to share him.  
  
No. Fucking. Way.  
  
“I just… I just want you guys to end this cold war between the two of you… spend more time together, get to know each other a little better? See how… it goes?”  
  
Oh Goddess. And also, damn you Storm.  
  
“What exactly do you see happening between us?”  
  
He stiffened a bit, but I didn’t stop rubbing his back.  
  
“Peaceful co-existence would be good… to start with.”  
  
“And then…?”  
  
“…”  
  
I ruffled his hair. “Do you even know what you’re asking for, kid?”  
  
He shrugged me off then, his mouth in a tight line like when he’s doing his field leader of the X-Men thing.  
  
“You were hitting on her the first time you laid eyes on her. What made you change your mind?”  
  
I looked into his eyes, his glasses that is. “You know the answer to that.”  
  
He sighed, dug his hands in his pockets.  
  
“Logan… I… I know for a fact there was something between the two of you before… before I…”  
  
“Don’t go there kid. Doesn’t matter anymore.”  
  
“Of course it does! If only you’d get over yourself and give her a chance maybe…”  
  
Guess I lost patience at that.  
  
“I know what you want but Cyke don’t you see? I don’t want it! Jean don’t want it! Stop pushing her and me into something we both don’t want!”  
  
I was angry and loud and very very insistent. He sulked and argued and refused to give it up.  
  
He tried the same thing with Jean and obviously that didn’t work either. At least Jean and me started making efforts at cordiality when in his presence so he would see that things were better now. But Cyke’s a smart one, he knew it was an act and he wasn’t buying it.  
  
One night, I snagged him away from his office and a pile of paperwork that was taking way too much of his time of late, and carried him to my room to turn in. No like, literally, I had to carry him because he refused to budge from his desk. Obviously he was still sullen and passive but that’s Scott for ya. He loves to be pursued and courted and seduced, I figured he’d come around.  
  
So there he was, naked and stretched out on his stomach propped up on elbows, gasping for breath. I had one hand underneath him stroking him to his release, and with the other I prepared him for myself. Two slick fingers scisorring in deep, stroking the prostate, eliciting moans that are music to my ears. After he came, he collapsed flat onto the bed trying to catch his breath. I bent down to nibble at his butt and he wriggled prettily. I pushed his right leg up, bending it by the knee to make way for myself then crawled into position to sheath myself inside him.  
  
Things were going so well. Obviously I was surprised, when among the hundred different sounds of pleasure he was expected to emit, I heard him let loose a… pained sigh?  
  
My fingers froze, already planning a slow retreat.  
  
“Cyke, does it hurt?”  
  
That wretched sigh again. “Nope.”  
  
Aaaand the trademark sulk tone. Damn it. I withdrew my hand and wiped off on a towel nearby.  
  
“Okay, out with it.”  
  
He turned over excruciatingly slowly and gave me a very fourteen-year-old look. “Logan, I can't do this anymore.”  
  
“Do what?”  
  
“I can't go on… hurting you and Jean so much. She… you, this whole _thing_ … it's not working.”  
  
My heart gave a slight jump at his choice of words. “What are you sayin'?”  
  
He pouted then shrugged, and fidgeted. I knew damn well what he was doing and like hell was I falling for it. Wolverine can call a manipulation from six miles away and this was so blatantly obvious it was pathetic. Damn it he even timed it perfectly.  
  
“Fine. You two go ahead and have a nice life then.”  
  
I got up and stretched as he stared after me, mouth agape. I pulled up my pants and was looking for the discarded wife-beater when he let out a short squeak and sat up on the bed.  
  
“You mean… just like that?”  
  
“Thought that’s what you wanted.”  
  
“I didn’t say that!”  
  
“You’re not getting me and Doc in bed with you if that’s what you’re planning.”  
  
“No… I-I didn’t say that either.”  
  
This was getting more and more frustrating by the second.  
  
“Then what _are_ you saying Slim?”  
  
There I stood, hands clenched by my sides not in anger but rigid determination to _not_ give in no matter what he said. How do I make nice with a woman I can barely stand? She already owns half of what matters to me the most in this world, what more could I possibly give her and why, when she doesn’t want anything to do with me in the first place? There had to be some other way to resolve the guilt Cyke felt but for the life of me I couldn’t think what. So I waited, for him to spit out whatever his messed up mind was brewing and eliminate it once and for all. Period.  
  
There was nothing he could say to change my mind about this. Nothing.  
  
I waited.  
  
My beautiful boy pulled up his knees to his chest and hugged them tightly. And he stared at me through his night glasses that I so thoroughly despise, and said: Nothing.  
  
No more teenage tantrums, no pouts I adore so much. He just sat there blank-faced, hurting himself, hating himself, blaming himself for nothing and everything. Desperate.  
  
Damn it.

I sighed so loud I bet Jean heard it from her room down the hall.  
  
“What did you have in mind?”

 

**//**//**

  
  
“GO FUCK YOURSELF LOGAN!!”  
  
And she storms out the hangar. Jean, of course. And well… that’s not all she said. There was something about how she wished she’d never laid eyes on me, and how she wished I’d crawl back into my fucking little arctic hole, and never come out blah blah. I told her if I went I’d take her precious baby lover with me and she’d never see him again and shit and that’s when she used her ultimate weapon - Tears.

Women! And _then_ she advises me to go fuck myself and storms out the hangar.  
  
Alright, let's backtrack a few hours, shall we?  
  
Our beloved leader Cyclops needed two people for a recon mission into the sewers of New York City and guess which two mutants are required to clear their busy schedules?  
  
I got it.  
  
This was a setup, a no pressure no expectations kinda way to have me and Jean spend some time together. I agreed and somehow he made her agree too. So we take the jet, barely a half hour’s flight. I try making conversation about learning to fly (Not that I give a damn. Flying’s really not my thing. I’m yet to understand why) and she plays along – takes me through all the dials and drills and shit. So far so good. We talk about why we were going to the city.  
  
There was a mutant sighting the day before in Lower Manhattan – someone with a grotesquely disfigured face and tentacles for arms who apparently rose out of one of the manholes and worked up a huge scare in broad daylight. Caused a couple of car accidents and two people were seriously injured. The mutant then dragged a whole cart of hot dogs down the sewers with his tentacles. Couldn’t be more than a poor hungry mutant looking for some grub if you ask me. But our leader thought there was more to it so here we were.  
  
We landed the plane on one of the secure rooftops and put up the invisible cloak... thingie. That’s the coolest thing about the Blackbird I must say. Then we went down to the manhole now surrounded by the police duct tape and Jean closed her eyes to do her telepathic reading thing. I waited.  
  
And waited.  
  
“You think Ro will have a problem subbing for my defense instruction classes?”   
  
She opened her eyes and glared at me.  
  
“Seeing as we’re gonna be here all week…”  
  
She narrowed her eyes and minced every word. “It's _under_ ground. Reaching that far takes time.”  
  
“Why didn’t you say somethin’ before?”  
  
I headed for the manhole, not waiting for her to get the what-the-hell riding her tongue out. She hissed at me as I ripped the duct away.  
  
“Are you completely out of your mind? Everyone’s looking at us!”  
  
A couple of pedestrians did turn our way giving us the regular weirdo looks. You knows the kind that says ‘Oh look, another whack job. Must be my lucky day.’  
  
I pushed the cover halfway open and a foul stench rushed out at us. The cover was sturdy, whoever did it had to be at least as strong as I was. I dropped about six feet before I hit slimy watery ground, while my head was still out in the light. I held up my arms.  
  
“Enough room here to stand and spread your arms out… and if you have tentacles for arms…”  
  
Jean looked around again to see who was watching us.  
  
“Yes thank you for the live enactment, will you get outta there now?”  
  
I looked about the sewer tunnel. “Looks like this place has been used to come and go quite often.”  
  
She was also doing her brainwaves thing in the meanwhile.  
  
“I sense more than one presence in there… not so far from here. Powerful… some of them are definitely mutants.”  
  
There were food scraps about, also some parchments in the slimy water.  
  
“Could be a group of people either using this as means of travel or even livin’ here.”  
  
“Someone _is_ living down there. Yuck that stinks horrible.”  
  
“Worse places to spend your life in Doc.”  
  
Trust me, I know. Jean didn’t want me to go in further. And I would have ignored her had it not been for a cop that came over and asked what we were doing down there. Jean would make a great actress. She pulled out the fake badge our fearless leader had her made (I refused to carry the one he got for me) and told him we were reporters from the Daily Bugle investigating yesterday’s event. He quickly shooed us away.

We left and headed straight for the jet. On the way we also overheard a conversation between some of the other cops and men in suits – from the government no doubt. Jean understood it, I didn’t.  
  
“That’s Department of Environmental Protection. We have to hurry.”  
  
Scott’s voice crackled over the plane’s comm-link and I felt an erection coming on right then. Damn what that kid does to me. I realized too late that I must have been projecting because Jean immediately pulled a disgusted face and turned back to the dashboard.  
  
“Scott can you get Kitty to hack into the DEP system? We need blueprints for the entire sewer system of New York.”  
  
“What’s your theory?”  
  
I jumped in. “Mutants living in the sewers, bub. We should also find out if there have been other lesser known sightings in this area. They’ve been living down there for sometime I’d say. This spot might be just one of their many exit and entry portals. Gotta find an isolated one to launch a cleanup if necessary."  
  
“I’ll get Kit on it right away. Why don’t you guys head back for now. I’ll see if I can find out more from my sources.”  
  
He meant his old posse from his street-rat days. He was still in touch with some and no one was hustling anymore, Scott made damn sure of that. But they were still much closer to the scene than Scott was. Jean gunned the engine, er, whatever it's called in a plane that is. I got into my seat and put on the belt. We could hear Scott giving orders to someone in the background.  
  
“Okay but we have to hurry. The DEP’s all over this one. If there are mutants among those people which there surely are, they might need our help or they might fall into the government’s hands.”  
  
I offered to save us some time. “Why don’t we go check it out right now?”  
  
“No that could be dangerous. These mutants could be hostiles as well. In any case we need to be better prepared before heading down there.”  
  
“Your call.”  
  
“So uh… how’re we doing? Uh… Otherwise?”  
  
Doc pretended to be thoroughly occupied with flying the jet, which left me to fend Cyke’s query. Great.  
  
“We’re… good. Good.”  
  
“Good! Good. So… you know It's okay if you… wanna take some time off? Before you return to the mansion that is…”  
  
Neither of us bothered to respond to that.  
  
“Um okay. See you back at the mansion then.”  
  
“Yeah. Peace out.”  
  
Cyke chuckled and the line went dead. The lady beside me sneered. “Peace? Out?”  
  
‘Kay so maybe I was channeling someone else this week.  
  
“Taken a liking to Spike have you?”  
  
Damn telepaths. “Kid’s got style.”  
  
Jean chuckled. And the ice broke just that little bit. Some fifteen minutes later I heard her sigh.  
  
Here we go.  
  
“Logan, things… don’t have to be this strained between us. We both knew what we were getting into when we signed onto… _this_.”  
  
I agreed, but didn’t bother to react.  
  
“Do you… understand what he… wants from us? You and me?”  
  
“I’m not as dense as you think, Doctor graduated-with-honors-from-Harvard.”  
  
“Stanford.”  
  
“Whatever. I know what he thinks he wants.”  
  
She reacted with silence, concentrating on the clear blue sky ahead. A minute passed before I gathered enough courage to ask. Okay so I'm a guy and the concept of making out with a fantastically sexy woman like Jean isn’t exactly unimaginable, you know. And in such close proximity, there was something else swaying my initial resistance towards the idea.  
  
Jean smells of Scott.  
  
“What do _you_ want?”  
  
She frowned at me once and looked away. “In your dreams, Wolverine.”  
  
Fuck. I looked away, disinterested again. Far as I was concerned, I’d tried. That oughtta be good enough for the kid. If not, too bad.  
  
“Just drive.”  
  
She scoffed again. “Look, let's not even go there. You and I both know we couldn’t possibly… we hate each other too much right now.”  
  
Well at least the woman had the balls to be blunt. I admired that, but I continued to sulk. Bruised male ego and shit.  
  
“You know you aren’t that great on keeping your emotions to yourself. Anyone can read you like an open book.”  
  
“I got nothing to hide.”  
  
“Yeah well Scott’s a private person, I hope you…”  
  
“I don’t think I need you to tell me what kind of person Scott is.”  
  
“I think I do. The Scott I’ve known for twelve years would never risk that stupid stunt on the Porsche…”  
  
“Wow. Twelve years!?!” I whistled. “And all this time you never knew your lover played both sides of the fence?”  
  
Granted, that must've hurt.  
  
“Fucking someone three times a day doesn’t make you his best friend, Logan. That's who I am, his best friend.”  
  
“Trust me babe I _am_ the best he’s ever had. And it's five a day. Not three.”  
  
That’s when we landed.  
  
That’s when she started yelling profanities and that’s when Scott who just happened to be hanging out at the hangar right then saw her storming away. She didn’t stop when he called after her and so he turned to me. I figured why should I be the one left to explain how his carefully planned scheme had failed so dismally. So I grunted and stormed away from him too.  
  
Wasn’t that hard, I was annoyed as hell at the both of them myself.

 

**//**//**

  
  
Let's just say the holy fucking trinity was not having a very fulfilling day.  
  
The kid and I argued some more, then he and Jean must have argued too. As a result Scott spent that night in his office instead of my room as per our little _schedule_. Hell he even locked his damn door. I could have broken it down, if I wanted to. But it was just one of those nights when none of us three was about to give in or get any. And none of us three was likin’ it any either.  
  
The next morning, I sprinted up to his office hoping to catch him in a better mood. The door was open but Scott wasn’t there. Eventually I found out from Bobby that he was in the Professor’s office going over some paperwork. Ran into Jean at the breakfast table and a second’s eye contact was enough for me to relay to her how much I blamed her for every darn thing. A second’s thought was enough for her to relay to me a massive migraine.

That’s right. Bitch telepathically sent me a headache. She’s _that_ vengeful.  
  
“You okay, Logan?” Ro asked me, clearly concerned. Meanwhile Jean just sat there straight-backed, sipping her coffee, a subtle smile curling around her lovely mouth so much like Scott’s. Fucking hell.  
  
“I’m fine.”  
  
//You’re such a bitch.//  
  
//Why thank you, asshole.//  
  
//’cause of you he didn’t come to bed yesterday. I’m takin’ tonight off you.//  
  
//You think _you_ have problems? He’s blocked me out again.//  
  
What? Oh boy.  
  
Last time Scott walled her out of his head, the freeze lasted four months and she got all seriously unhinged and we ended up in that bar and… oh boy. He shouldn’t have done that. I chanced a quick glance at Jean. Her agitation and fear was clearly evident in her eyes. I found myself consoling her, understanding how much she depended on that anchor for her powerful but volatile mind to stay grounded.  
  
//Look I’m sure he’ll cool off by tonight. And maybe quit this insanity completely.//  
  
The connection was quiet a long time before she responded.  
  
//One can hope.//  
  
Then she gradually drew the headache away.  
  
I had classes all afternoon and Slim didn’t come to visit like he usually does almost every hour. Not once. By 1600 hours I was getting all antsy but refused to go after him either. If he thought he could _sulk_ me and Jeannie into bed together, sorry kid. Not happening. Instead I went to vent my frustration in the Danger Room. Robots were my only friends in the whole world at that time.  
  
//Logan. Logan!//  
  
I stopped the simulation and focused on what Jean was saying.  
  
//Scott’s not in the mansion. He took his bike out and he’s not responding to me.//  
  
//Cellphone-wise?//  
  
//Every which wise.//  
  
I exhaled very, very deeply. If this was another childish tantrum the kid sure was just asking for it.  
  
//Relax Doc, maybe he just went for a spin, clear his head. I’m sure he’ll be back when he’s ready.//  
  
//No. No I don’t think so, something’s not right.//  
  
Gawd, I rolled my eyes. No wonder the kid was so damn spoiled.  
  
//How do you know?//  
  
//I’m a fucking telepath, I can _feel_ these things you fucking loser! Get your ass up here RIGHT NOW!//  
  
Okay, put that way…  
  
“Why didn’t he tell anyone where he was going? This is not like Cyclops to be so irresponsible.” Storm was going on and on, now that she was in command in Scott’s absence who’d been missing for about five hours now.  
  
It was six in the evening and already dark out and yeah I was getting worried now. His cellphone was out of network area, bike had no tracking mechanism and Jean continued to hit a wall telepathically.  
  
“Storm, please let me…”  
  
“No it's too dangerous Jean. You know what happened last time you went into the Cerebro. I can't let you do it.”  
  
“She’s right.” I said with conviction. Scott wouldn’t want her to.  
  
The last time was when Charles was poisoned and Jean went in to find where Magneto took Marie. Ever since, her powers have spun out of control. It never ceases to amaze me how enormous her mutation is. So powerful she could potentially destroy herself and everything else around her if the Professor didn’t help her construct all those guards inside her head.  
  
“We wait until the Professor returns, which should be within the hour. That should also give time to the little brat to return on his own.”  
  
Ororo looked at me weirdly, Jean quickly changed the subject before she could ponder the nature of my comment any further.  
  
“Let's look at his messages today. Maybe he went after a lead or something.”  
  
There were nothing on his email or answering machine. Kitty’s one useful little mutant. She was hacking into the cellphone company network to get Scott’s phone records as we spoke. But in the documents opened on his laptop, we did find the blueprints of the sewage network Kitty had downloaded for Scott yesterday. Jean wondered aloud.  
  
“You don’t think he went down there by himself do you?”  
  
“Got it!”  
  
We all turned to Kitty and I read off a screen of records she was scrolling through.  
  
“The last call he got was from a number in lower Manhattan, number listed in the name of Eric Banner. The actor?”  
  
“That’s Bana.”  
  
I scratched my head. “What’d I say?”  
  
Ro just rolled her eyes in response. “Eric is Scott’s friend of thirteen years. He asked this guy to keep an eye on the sewers yesterday.”  
  
We looked at each other, Jean and I. Our man was definitely not in a happy place last night. Could he really?  
  
//I’m so gonna kill him. Slowly.//  
  
//Get in line, bub.//

 

**//**//**

  
  
Kitty insisted on coming along. Storm said no, and I said ‘hell no!’ but then she was the one with the power to walk through walls and we had no idea what obstacles lay underground. Also she did study the sewer network system along with Scott the day before and together they’d marked out a few potential hideouts where the mutants may be living. So yeah we gave in and she suited up. It was more and more likely Scott was down there, that could be one explanation for why Jean was not able to locate him through their psyionic link.  
  
On the flight over, I don't know what came over me. I put an arm around Jean.  
  
//I’m sure he’s fine, Doc.//  
  
She just nodded, and leaned against me. I wasn’t kidding before when I told ya she smells of Scott. It fucks with my head every time I get close to her. But right now she was really worried and so was I, despite my earlier suspicion of this being just another emotional blackmail tactic. But it didn’t seem so anymore.  
  
Blackbird parked and shielded, Ro, Jean, Kitty and I jumped through the open manhole and started our trudge towards the underworlders, if any. Led by Jean who was concentrating with every nerve in her body to find Scott, Kit studying the blueprints on her phone warning us of dead ends and the occasional dead mice. We needn’t have bothered, because while we were tracking Scott, someone else was tracking us.  
  
I held up a closed fist to make everyone stop, then raised a finger to my lips ordering complete silence. The foreign scent was moving, alive and nearby. Right behind us.  
  
The presence stilled, now aware he’d been made. I turned and chased the footsteps rushing away just as my team followed me. It was a short chase, caught up with a slight, thin figure, ran him down into the slime of the sewer floor and held him there with a knee and three claws.  
  
“Damn, you’re filthy.”  
  
And he stank too. Then again, everything down here stank. The boy, hard to tell how old but he was young… and scared. He had severe skeletonish features, what with no hair on his head, wide yellow eyes, nonexistent earlobes, and hollowed cheeks. Pale white all over, almost like an albino. Huge, huge puppy dog eyes. He struggled to get away but I held him down good. And he obviously wasn’t too surprised to see adamantium claws out of my knuckles.  
  
“You’ve been following us around, haven’t ya?”  
  
“Let me go! Please I’m s-sorry!”  
  
The kid was truly panicking, but before I could react Kitty came closer.  
  
“Hey it's okay. We won't hurt you. We’re not going to hurt you.”  
  
Her softer voice got through the boy as he stopped to stare back at her, intrigued.  
  
“I won't t-tell. I s-swear, p-please let me go.”  
  
I growled impatiently, “Tell what? To who?”  
  
His struggles began again.  
  
Ro tried. “Do you know who we are, kid?”  
  
He shook his head vigorously, still looking at Kitty like she was the most interesting, beautiful thing he’d seen in his life.  
  
“You’re m-m-mutants, b-but you don’t belong here. We don’t like o-outsiders very much d-down here.”  
  
At the time I didn't know his mutation so I assumed he'd guessed us out by my claws. Jean asked him then.  
  
“Did an outsider come down here before us? Like this morning?”  
  
He stilled. “Morning… it's hard to t-tell morning from… after-morning d-down here.”  
  
“Just answer the question damn it!”  
  
Ro put a hand on Jean’s shoulder. I retracted my claws, hoping to encourage the kid to keep talking, but held him down. Ro tried again.  
  
“What’s your name?”  
  
“Cal… Caliban.”  
  
He quickly glanced at Kitty and she smiled at him encouragingly. What is it with girls and puppy dog eyes anyway?  
  
“Cal… can I call you that? I’m Storm. We’ve come looking for a friend. Maybe you saw him…”  
  
His eyes darted back and forth nervously, I heard his pulse quicken. Bingo.  
  
“Few hours ago… tall slim guy, brown hair, red shades?”  
  
He swallowed. I decided to help him out.  
  
“Alright we know he did. Now just be a good boy and tell us where he is okay?”  
  
“I… I… I can't.”  
  
I snikt’ed out my claws centimeters from his nose. He panicked again. Kitty cried out.  
  
“Logan wait. Cal… please tell us where our friend is. We just need to know he’s okay.”  
  
I saw him melt and pulled away from him just an inch. “He… he’s okay. K-Kinda.”  
  
Jean was losing patience with the guy. “K-Kinda?”  
  
“Well, after Leech neutralized him…”  
  
“NEUTRALIZED HIM??”  
  
“H-his p-powers I mean… a-and Sunder f-flung him to the wall, that kinda kno-knocked him out…”  
  
“Oh God.”  
  
I got up enraged and grabbed the kid to make him stand too. “Take us to him. Now.”  
  
“I… I can't. She will kill me if she knew…”  
  
“I’ll kill you right now if you don’t!”  
  
That was motivation enough. I didn’t let go of his arm as he started leading us deeper into the tunnels.  
  
“Who’s she?” Kitty Pryde. Always the inquisitive one.  
  
The kid swallowed. “Our leader. Ca… Callisto. She… she took him to the main tunnel.”  
  
Jean interjected. “What does she want from him?”  
  
“… Uhhh…”  
  
Okay let me just summarize what we found out from the kid who didn’t hold back much… eventually, once Kitty threw another happy smile his way, and held his miserable gaze with a gentle one of her own. They called themselves Morlocks, mutants living in hiding here in the sewers because most of them were too disfigured and physically mutated to live above the ground in anonymity. Caliban was a mutant hound, he could sense and locate other mutants and worked as a patrolling guy down here to keep track of outsiders. Back to the pregnant pause between our mutant hound’s last completely useless response and our worried telepath’s shocking insight into his thoughts.  
  
“Caliban… answer me. Right now.”  
  
Her voice had dropped a hundred notches. The tunnel trembled around us. Vehemently she stepped closer to the pathetic mutant like she knew he was about to utter something horribly… horrible. I frowned, but decided it safer, as did Ro and Kit, to not interrupt.  
  
“Her m-majesty n-needs to pro-pro-pro-c-create…”  
  
She what?  
  
“SHE WHAT??”  
  
Jean was going red with rage, no literally. She was flaming red all over. I was too worried about a possible cave-in and death by burial to give this new contender for my boy’s affections enough attention. Obviously Jeannie had no such concerns.  
  
“To… to c-continue the royal lineage of the Mo-Mo-Morlocks?”  
  
“…”  
  
“…”  
  
Earthquake! Earthquake!  
  
“SPIT IT OUT!!”  
  
“There is going to be a royal wedding in two hours!”  
  
He was so scared at the towering sight of an admittedly very scary Jean, that he didn’t stammer once.  
  
The trembling suddenly stopped. Just like that. Doc crossed her arms in front of her, and tilted her head. It was a menacing sight.  
  
“I see.”

 

 

**//**//**

 

  
“Here we are…”  
  
Caliban gulped down hard. But at this point it was clear he wasn’t revealing his secrets out of fear of us, rather in infatuation of young Miss Pryde.  
  
We crouched in the darkest periphery of the main Morlock hideout, where no one could see us. The sight that greeted us was shocking and overwhelming.  
  
The main tunnel turned out to be a huge dome shaped area the size of the mansion’s swimming pool. It was so deep into the sewer network we could have spent a week playing lost and found before reaching Scott, if not for Caliban. People, no mutants, about forty of them visibly physically mutated… milled about, yakking loudly, putting up some sorta decorations and preparing a dais for a special event.  
  
The fucking wedding.  
  
Heavy metal played on a boom box somewhere and the rich tunnel acoustics ensured nobody could hear anything but the blaring so-called music. Several smaller tunnels broke out from the main dome and according to Caliban, the third one from our right led to the leader’s royal (yeah right) chambers.  
  
“That where Scott is?”  
  
“Y-yeah. P-please don’t t-tell…”  
  
“Don’t worry kid. Now tell us which one’s Leech in here.”  
  
Storm grilled Caliban further about Leech and how to get him before he _neutralized_ all of us, since that’s apparently what he could do - cancel out other mutants’ powers. Luckily his effect was only temporary, lasting approximately twenty four hours according to Caliban.  
  
I started planning my move amid the potentially hostile crowd to get to my boy. But before I could do anything, the music stopped and suddenly there was a huge honking somewhere. Like an old truck’s horn.  
  
Everyone in the dome stopped what they were doing, and looked up towards the third tunnel I had almost charged into. Spotlights came on and what followed next was three parts disgusting, six parts infuriating and one part… uh… arousing. Don’t ever let Jean know I said that. To her it was all the same.  
  
She was flarin' red again.  
  
A tall, perfectly shaped, wondrously voluptuous woman in camouflage pants, black leather boots on seven inch stilettos, and a jet black leather corset with shoulder straps walked in. She had a black eye patch on her right eye, boy there’s something to be said about a woman with an eye patch. The right side of her face was sorta disfigured with what seemed like burn marks but those lips, oh mama. And she had long curly jet black hair flowing freely behind her sashaying waist and in her strong muscled arms she carried in an unconscious…  
  
Oh. Fucking. Crap.  
  
Callisto walked to the dais and put Scott down on her _royal_ throne. He didn’t have his glasses on and it selfishly occurred to me that this was probably my chance to actually see his baby blues. His leather suit was unzipped from his collar to navel. He was still out, I wondered if they’d done something else to him, he couldn’t stay knocked out just because of ramming against a wall. The Morlock leader turned to address her citizens.  
  
“My fellow Morlocks!”  
  
Her voice strong and deep echoed flawlessly round the dome.  
  
“The time has come for me to give my people the assurance of a strong and faithful continued leadership. And this is why I have chosen for myself a strong mega mutant with just the right genes to give you a powerful Morlock prince or princess for the future!”  
  
Every Morlock roared in applause at that and yet Scott didn’t move. The tunnel was also trembling softly though few people noticed. I noticed big time, the epicenter standing right next to me and all. Caliban stuck to our sides, rather Kitty’s side through all this.  
  
“I call upon the Royal Healer and Minister to start with the wedding proceedings.”  
  
A little old man with mouse-like features and a bent spine walked up onto the dais and went to Scott. Instinct drove me to head to him right then but Storm held me back.  
  
“Wait for the right moment, Logan.”  
  
I growled deep in my throat as the so called Healer put his hand on Scott’s forehead. Everyone was holding their breath or something. A minute later Scott stirred and we sighed in relief.  
  
Then he opened his eyes, and it was like time simply stopped.  
  
Scott opened his eyes… those beautiful blue eyes wide with confusion and foreboding, along with something wild and feverish. He looked around, disoriented and crouched back on the throne he sat on, not sure what to make of the crowd before him. Then Callisto approached him and he seemed to remember.  
  
“Welcome back my darling.”  
  
“Wha… what’s happening?”  
  
She put a hand on his right cheek caressing it softly as his eyes darted around.  
  
“The arrangements are complete. Soon we will be together forever.”  
  
“Jeez. Get over it lady. I am not marrying you!”  
  
Callisto just smiled and cooed, irritating him and me and Jean at the same time.  
  
“Aren’t we feisty tonight?”  
  
Holy Mother of God I never thought seeing Cyke roll his eyes would be such an incredible turn on.  
  
“I’m warning you Callisto _darling_. You don’t want to see my boyfriend in a feisty mood.”  
  
“I thought you said 'girlfriend' before?”  
  
He just grimaced, holding his temple that was obviously hurting him. “Her too.”  
  
Callisto laughed, like Scott had cracked a joke and all the Morlocks laughed with her. With everyone still laughing Callisto pulled Scott up by his hand and held him by his waist to herself. Why couldn’t he support himself on his own feet? They’d done something to my boy to make him so weak. And then the bitch leaned in to kiss him!  
  
Suddenly the dome trembled with a greater ferocity than an earthquake of eight on the Richter scale.  
  
“Get away from my boyfriend, bitch!”  
  
Jean. Not me.  
  
And she flicked her left hand with a jerk. Callisto went flying off to the left landing somewhere below the dais from the telekinetic impact, as Scott dropped to the floor. And the mayhem began.  
  
“OUTSIDERS!!!!!”  
  
Everyone screamed, some ran for cover, others geared up to attack. Scott pulled himself off the dais but it seemed to drain him of his energy as he leaned against a wall. I worked my way through the crowd of attacking mutants to get to him. Jean was prepared for Leech the little green midget and before he could strike to steal our powers, she struck out at him. Leech flew some twenty yards backwards until he hit a tunnel wall with massive force and was knocked out for the night. One of the bigger sized mutants attacked me and I invested all my rage into ripping him apart. Huge guy with tentacles, so that was our hot dog fanatic.  
  
One guy grabbed hold of Kitty while we were distracted but before I could head toward her she morphed away from his grip and applied a couple of smooth moves from my defense instruction classes on him. I was proud of her. Storm was busy getting rid of the rabid attackers to make way for us to get closer to the dais. Four on forty, not a very favorable ratio. Least not for us.  
  
“Callisto!!” Jean challenged the leader who was rushing towards Scott to catch hold of him.  
  
The Morlock leader screamed back. “You shall not steal him from me!”  
  
Jean scoffed. “A case of pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think?”  
  
“Why don’t you fight me for him and we shall see who truly deserves him.”  
  
Fuck. The tentacles guy was taking away all my attention but I could sense Jean really, and I mean _really_ losing it now. The trembling of the tunnel stopped and for a second every damn one stopped and stood still to enjoy the silence and the solid ground, just for a second.  
  
Jean shone amid bright red energy emanating from her like a beacon.  
  
“I. HAVE. SERIOUSLY. HAD it! With EVERYONE just WALTZING in and grabbing MY fiancé… trying to TAKE HIM AWAY from ME!!!! You think you have some FUCKING RIGHT?!?!? THAT IS MY BOYFRIEND!!!! And like HELL will YOU ever get your FILTHY SEWER hands on him EVER! AGAIN!!!”  
  
Callisto went flying again but this time she braced herself against the wall on her feet and flew right back at Jean toppling her over. The two disappeared amid the crowd as everyone resumed their individual fights. Just then I heard Kitty scream and turned towards her. An old wrinkled woman had grabbed hold of her wrist and Kitty seemed to be struggling in pain at that contact, unable to phase away. I tried to make my way to her but there were way too many Morlocks blocking my fucking way.  
  
She screamed again.  
  
“Caliban! Help me!”  
  
And he did.  
  
The kid was standing very near just staring at her being attacked with his big scared eyes. I witnessed him slowly gathering up all his courage and rushing to her aid. Satisfied, I focused my attention to the tentacle man again who just wouldn’t go away. Fact he’d just fashioned his tentacles into… claws just like mine.

Shapeshifter. Huh.

I glanced once towards Kitty who was being led away by Caliban through the way we’d come, then drove my claws through the mutant’s gut. I didn’t wish to kill anyone down there because fact is – I still felt a little sorry for their situation. But it had become a matter of my survival or his.

When I finally reached Cyke, I pulled him into my arms and shook him awake. He was delirious, and very hot to the touch, and didn’t open his eyes once. Damn.  
  
“Scott! Scott look at me kid… look at me!”  
  
“L-Logan…”  
  
“It's me. Lets get you outta here kid.”  
  
“No, don’t touch me…”  
  
“What?”  
  
“I’ve been infected. Get away… ”  
  
“What’re you talking about? It's okay it's just me, I don’t get sick remember? Scott?”  
  
He was losing consciousness again. I did the first thing I could think of – called for help.  
  
//Jean!!//  
  
Jean was still locked in an endless battle with the Morlock leader. Callisto may not be telekinetic but she had superhuman reflexes, quickly learning how to avoid Jean’s attacks and catch her unawares. When I called, Jean was distracted and took a painful kick in her gut, driven to her knees. She looked up at Callisto who was taking her own much needed breather, circling her menacingly.  
  
“What did you do to Scott?”  
  
“Oh, so that’s what his name is?”  
  
I pressed Scott’s head into my chest, rocking him… and in a continuous litany whispered to him. “Open your link to Jean, kid. Talk to her. Tell her what’s wrong. Scott come on.”  
  
He was too far gone to listen. Jean looked up at her adversary and invaded her mind viciously.  
  
“What the fuck did you do to him?”  
  
Callisto resisted but she couldn’t. She too fell to her knees in pain and blurted out.  
  
“I asked… Plague to infect him! I would have let him die if he refused to marry me. So I guess that’s what he’s doing now… Dying.”  
  
And she laughed. I wanted to tear her to shreds with my teeth. But I was too panicked to leave Scott. Jean’s anger wilted in comparison to her concern for Scott as well.  
  
Storm was giving the rest of the Morlocks a hard time, driving them away from the main dome so they couldn’t pose any danger to the rest of us.  
  
//Storm!// Jean called out to our leader and Ro came flying in only a second later. Callisto, thinking she was being flank-attacked, flung herself on Storm strangling her from behind.  
  
“You guys get Scott and Kit out of here. I’ll handle this!”  
  
At Ro's go-ahead, I held Scott up by his waist and wound his arm across my shoulder, half carried half dragged him after Jean as she made it through the second tunnel. She telepathically connected to all of us at once.  
  
//Kitty, are you okay?//  
  
//Yes, I’m with Caliban.//  
  
//Good. Ask him to take you to the Healer. I am following you.//  
  
//Okay.//  
  
So we went, Caliban and Kitty rushing towards the Healer who himself was running way to his hiding place, no holy matrimony was worth all this trouble. Jean ran towards Kitty and I followed with Scott. At some time Scott couldn’t keep up so I just flung him over my shoulder and ran harder, while also checking in with Storm simultaneously.  
  
//You okay, Ro?//  
  
//I’m okay. You guys keep going.//  
  
I felt shamefully guilty for leaving her behind but I promised myself as soon as Scott was taken care of, I’d rush back to her. We ran through an endless number of tunnels until we finally reached the hole where the little old man who called himself Healer was hiding. Along with another old lady… the one who had attacked Kitty before – she was Plague.   
  
Caliban was being berated by the Healer as I lowered Scott to the ground before him. “Caliban! You traitor!”  
  
“Oh come off it, old man. She threatened to kill him if he didn’t marry her. What kind of love is that? You can't force someone to… love you…”  
  
The last part was said as Caliban stared into Kitty’s eyes. She did not respond. Jean wasted no time in pleasantries. One skull cramp was enough to convince the Healer to cooperate. He did his mojo eventually, putting his hand on Scott’s forehead and gradually, brought him back to consciousness.  
  
“He will be weak for a few hours but nothing he can't sleep off. The infection is gone.”  
  
We didn’t wait to thank him, though Kitty probably did. I pulled Cyke back in my arms hugging him desperately. I looked at Jean once who was barely keeping her emotions in check. Then she turned to Caliban ordered him to lead us out of the tunnels one last time.  
  
“What about Storm?” I asked.  
  
At that Jean stopped, doing her brainwave listening thing again. Then abruptly she smirked and turned back to the Healer.  
  
“You might want to head over to your _royal_ dome, if you wanna save your fucking leader.”

 

  
**//**//**

  
  
So that’s how the three of us came to share one bed for the first time last night.  
  
Nope. Not like that.  
  
Scott was out like a light until this morning, though Hank gave him a clean bill of health. And there came a moment during that long dark night when Jean and me both stretched out on each side of Scott on the bed, _not_ glaring at each other… not trippin’ or bitchin’ or whinin’ … nothing. But for once in complete accord. Of how lucky we were. Of how badass the other had been through the mission. Of how seriously messed up all this was.

Of how breathtakingly beautiful Scott’s eyes were. How young he looked without the glasses.  
  
And of how dead he was going to be when he woke up.  
  
Morning comes soon enough and I overhear the women of X-Men talking over a late brunch organized for Ro. She'd just returned from Morlock land where after defeating Callisto, she has apparently been chosen as the new Morlock leader. Bah. Some honor that. Okay, maybe.  
  
“I can't believe you’re actually helping that bitch out, Ro!”  
  
“Hey, you sent the Healer over when she was dying. Besides she has accepted me as her leader too, and she says she wouldn’t have let Scott die. She just said that to get a rise out of you.”  
  
“She can say anything she wants, I don’t care. I’d prefer she stay down there and as far away from us as possible.”  
  
“Okay okay. But it's not just her, Jean, it’s her people. The Morlocks are so scarred by their past experiences with humans that they refuse to come to the surface ever again. They’re worse than animals down there. I think we should do everything we can to give them a safe haven where they can live like normal people. Don’t you agree?”  
  
I hear Jean 'pfft' her although I know she does agree, but I don’t wait to hear the rest of the conversation. Fix a plate of fruit and toast, and with a mug of steaming coffee in another hand head towards Scott’s room. There I find Marie, Bobby, St. John and Kitty lurking outside his door debating if they could go in or not.  
  
“Come to see if One-eye’s up for class or no?”  
  
Marie smiles seeing me, eager to be let in. “We just wanted to see him, see if he’s alright.”  
  
“Let’s find out,” and I push the door open, the kids right behind me.  
  
Scott is awake. He is sitting up leaned against a couple of cushions facing the full length windows, and when the door opens he turns toward us… opening his eyes.  
  
Bobby is the first to react.  
  
“SHIT! DUCK!!!”  
  
A collective thud echoes behind me that I pay no attention to. Scott gives the four teenagers flat on their stomachs on the floor a cursory glance in mild amusement then looks up at me. I just stare at him… his eyes, not caring one bit for the drama behind me. Holy Mother of… he is so… so…  
  
“Logan. Are you okay?”  
  
“…”  
  
“John, Bobby get off the floor for God's sake.”  
  
And he chuckles. Great, just great. He intends to kill me with his laughter now. Laughter that reaches his eyes, sweet, sweet Jesus. I’m a religious man today.  
  
Kitty is the first one on her feet, fixing her disarrayed hair smiling sheepishly.  
  
“I knew! Just… you know when someone says ‘Duck!’ like that you just gotta… duck. You know?”  
  
Others soon follow and suddenly Scott becomes the center of everyone’s acute attention. Marie looks utterly awed out as she approaches Scott’s bed.  
  
“Mr. Summers, you’ve got the bluest eyes I ever seen mah’ whole damn life!”  
  
We see him blush brightly, before he looks away, clears his throat and nods. “Uhh. Thanks Marie. So… um, how’s… how’s the paper on Hamlet comin’ along?”  
  
There’s a quiet collective groan that everyone hears and I jump at the opportunity.  
  
“Alright kids, you heard the man. Go finish your papers. Don’t think just because he ain't there to collect em’ personally you get more time. I’m his replacement for two days.”  
  
John chuckles, I glare, he shuts up. Marie however would not be cowered so easy.  
  
“ _You_ are going to teach _English_?”  
  
“Yeah. And unless you guys looking for some extra personalized homework, I suggest you scoot!”  
  
I hand Scott his favorite breakfast and go to stand by the window with the view of our lake. The kids take awhile saying their goodbyes to Scott, they genuinely love him a lot – the students. Once they clear out, I close the door and turn to my boy.  
  
A couple of minutes pass in silence as I stand studying him, arms crossed feet set apart on the white carpet. He fidgets. Looks down at the fresh fruit for eternity but doesn’t eat. Then he looks up and blurts, “Okay will you please just say something already?”  
  
“Good to see your strength is back up.”  
  
He realizes that may not exactly be a good thing for him right now.  
  
“What? Uh… no Hank says I’m still… sorta… weak.”  
  
I snigger, shaking my head.  
  
“Our great leader beggin’ for a sick leave. What has the world come to?”  
  
He scowls at me. Dammit even that expression makes him look so fucking… what’s the word… delicious.  
  
“God, I will never get used to the sight of your eyes.”  
  
His annoyance melts at that. “Good. ‘Cause this isn’t gonna last.”  
  
His voice is a pained whisper as he turns away and it takes all I have to stop myself from grabbing him. Holding him in my arms, never letting him go. But I couldn’t. I had to wait.  
  
“You realize last night was the first time I… saw you… like really…”  
  
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.  
  
“Last night yeah… we gotta talk about last night, Slim.”  
  
He swallows but doesn’t take his longing eyes off me. Gradually notices I wasn’t responding to anything he said the way he’d expect me to. His voice is barely more than a trembling whisper.  
  
“What are you waiting for?”  
  
“…”  
  
“…”  
  
“For Jean.”

 

  
**//**//**

 

  
She walks in some ten minutes later when the silence becomes extremely unbearable. Scott looks and probably feels like a young petulant child, dressed in navy blue sweat pants and a white tee shirt that barely covers his navel. He uses his bright eyes effectively - glaring one minute and pleading the next - teasing, tempting… enticing us to utter distraction from the little game we had planned out for our boy.  
  
//Don’t you dare give in, Wolverine.//  
  
Thankfully Jean is immune to his charms and keeps me in check.  
  
“Look. Guys I know okay. I fucked up. And I’m sorry.”  
  
Jean locks the door behind us with a thought and with another pulls away all the curtains on the windows to let the sunshine stream in. On any other day it would have been a very comfortable room to spend the day in. Scott is squirming in his bed as she heads towards him.  
  
“Sorry isn’t going to cut it this time, Summers.”  
  
Last name. Cyke is so dead.  
  
“What else do you want me to say?”  
  
She rolls her eyes and turns to me chirpily. “Are you gonna do it or do you want me to?”  
  
I shrug as he sits up straighter.  
  
“No. No guys, wait. Listen. I got a call that the tentacle guy had surfaced again and…”  
  
“And you rush out without backup, without letting anyone know, not even us!”  
  
"I am the team leader, Jean!"  
  
"Oh so the rules only apply to us and not you? Is that why the Professor gave you the authority to lead us?"  
  
I get tired of going back and forth between the two liking following an endless match of tennis, so I start fishing around for my cigar.  
  
"You've always trusted my decisions before."  
  
"Well, you've never done anything this dumb before."  
  
“It wasn’t that big a deal! At first…”  
  
“If it wasn’t a big deal for you going down there alone, how come it was so dangerous for the two of us to down there day before?”  
  
“I… well I…”  
  
“You did it on purpose Summers. To punish us.”  
  
“That’s not true.”  
  
“You shut me out! Again!”  
  
He has no response to that. Pouts guiltily, adorably, and looks away.  
  
Okay I can't pretend all this wasn’t turning me on just that tiny little bit. I mean it _is_ Scott and this is another spanking we’re talking about. As if you hadn’t guessed that already. But fact is, my sense of kink and mischief from last time around is totally missing. We are dead serious and much more pissed this time. Jean and I had been through hell worrying about Cyke all day yesterday and that was just half of it.  
  
Scott didn’t pretend that he didn’t know what we were talking about either. The panic in his… sweet sweet Jesus… big blue eyes gives him away and he scans around for escape options. Jean sits down right beside him and puts one hand around his waist, another in the curve of his neck caressing him lightly. She speaks to him very softly, in a tone only a lover can use.  
  
“Tell me sweetheart, did you really think you could emotionally blackmail the two of us into bed just so you could make yourself feel less guilty?”  
  
He swallows. “I wasn’t…”  
  
“Yes you were, darling. For weeks we tried to tell you it wasn’t going to happen but you didn’t listen.”  
  
He looks at me as I stand by the window again, studying him.  
  
“So while you’re sleeping, Logan and I got to talk… a lot. And we’ve come to an agreement. I guess there is _something_ that the two of us could do together after all.”  
  
Scott looks at her then me then back at her. And he is certain whatever it is, he is not going to want to hear it.  
  
“I can't believe you guys are discussing this like it’s a normal done thing! Why do you get to do this to me?!? I am _not_ consenting to this and to hell with your fucking agreement!”  
  
And he gets up from the bed and heads for the door. Fully expecting me or Jean to try and stop him. When neither of us makes a move he turns and looks at us skeptically.  
  
“…”  
  
“…”  
  
“This is gonna turn out badly for me, isn’t it?”  
  
Jean sighs melodramatically and gets up. Walks towards me tiredly.  
  
“No sweetie. We still love you too damn much. Sure you used our feelings, our emotions for you to manipulate us into doing what _you_ wanted… so what? Sure you blocked me out again when you know how much I need to be connected to you… so what? Sure you put yourself in grave danger by breaking X-Men protocol _despite_ being field leader, might I add… guess the Professor should have something to say about that when he returns. What right do we have to… say anything? Right?”  
  
She rests a hand over my shoulder and looks at Cyke. The boy is reacting exactly the way she expected him to. Wincing with every word that rolls off her tongue dripping with sad sarcasm.  
  
“I did it for you! You guys are the ones always fighting and stressing and sniping at each other all day. I thought if you had each other too, maybe…”  
  
I butt in then. “Fine Cyclops, you win! We are willing to give this a shot. And _this_ is what we wanna do as a couple the most!”  
  
“By th-this… you mean…”  
  
I smirk. “Hell yeah! You know I love smacking that cute little tushie of yours!”  
  
Jean smirks and adds in her most seductive tone. “Yeah, I think I kinda like it too, Scott.”  
  
He is in full-on panic. “But I don’t!!! Why does nobody care about that???”  
  
We look at each other in mock confusion, Jeannie and me.  
  
“Well… obviously honey you’re not supposed to. Why else would it be called a punishment?”  
  
He stammers and sputters. “P-punishment?!?”  
  
Jean starts counting his indiscretions on her neatly manicured fingers again.  
  
“For using our emotions for you to manipulate us into doing what you wanted? For blocking me out again when you know…”  
  
“Alright! Alright!”  
  
He shrieks and I barely curb a chuckle from getting out. This is turning out to be too much fun.  
  
“Look do you want us to give this a go or not?”  
  
“Have a go at each other, not ME for Christs sake!!!”  
  
Jean squinted at me. “Mmm… nope… I don’t see that working. It's _you_ we both want. You are the apex of this dysfunctional triangle. Its only fair don’t you think?”  
  
He backs up till he hits the door, but does not make a move to unlock it.  
  
“Listen guys, there’s got to be a rational… not so insane solution to this problem.”  
  
Jean steps closer to him and away from me. She is flaring again. Oh boy.  
  
“No Scott, you listen to me. You went too far yesterday, too far. Now do you wanna set things right between us or just let this poison the air between us forever… it's up to you.”  
  
“Can't you let it go just this once?” He whines. And Jean yells in return.  
  
“You almost died! Either that or you’d be married by now to that 'cesspool queen' and I don’t know which is worse!!”  
  
“Legally it wouldn’t have been binding…”  
  
“Not helping, Slim.”  I interject shaking my head like a sage and he stops rambling.  
  
“…”  
  
“C’mon you guys…”  
  
“Hey if you wanna do it one on one… like with Jean first and then me… that’s fine too.”  
  
He stops hyperventilating for a moment and actually considers that. “You mean like… twice?”  
  
I shrug. “If that’s what you want.”  
  
“Two spankings?”  
  
And his hand flies to his mouth, not believing he actually uttered the cursed word! Jean is barely controlling her laughter.  
  
“Quickly Scott, we don’t have all day. Charles is going to be here any minute now.”  
  
I freak. //Really?//  
  
//Nah. Plans changed. He isn’t arriving until tomorrow. Don’t worry.//  
  
Xavier listening in on our private conversations might get a bit too embarrassing for the kid. Not like I wouldn’t enjoy that too. Scott believes the ruse though and panics even more, his sinfully gorgeous eyes limpid and bluer than ever before.  
  
“No. Uh ahem… one.” He mumbles almost inaudibly.  
  
“Alright then, come on sweetie. Hop up.”  
  
Jean goes to the bed and pats it twice. My boy is flushed red as he slowly makes his way close to her. When he reaches her, she holds out her hand and I didn’t think he’d do it but reluctantly he does put his hand in hers. She pulls him to the bed, sits down herself and puts her long legs up bent slightly at the knees. Then as I look on, Jean presses him face down across her lap so his upper torso lies on the bed, his butt high up on her lap and his legs dangle behind with his toes just touching the carpeted floor. I walk up and sit on the bed too so Scott is flanked on both sides by his lovers.  
  
“Good boy.”  
  
Jean talks to him throughout and I stroke the length of his taut back. Then as she clasps the waistband of his blue sweats he jerks up.  
  
“Guys that isn’t necessary please…”  
  
“What sweetie? It's not like we’ve never seen you before…”  
  
And she pulls them down revealing the fantastic booty on my boy. I want to go “yowza” in my loudest growl but restrict myself since we’re still pretending to be very very angry. I join Jean in generously rubbing the roundness of his butt as she continues to talk to him and he continues to hide his head between his hands clasped at the back of his neck.  
  
Gawd how I love this boy. In this particular position. And across Jean's lap is even hotter than I could have imagined. Too bad this wasn’t gonna last too long.  
  
“Ready sweetie?”  
  
Before Scott could say yes or no or whatever… Jean raises a hand and brings it down smartly, square in the middle of his butt.  
  
“Oww!”  
  
“Hurts honey?”  
  
“Yeeeeahhh!” when what he probably wants to say is “Duhhhh.”  
  
“Good.”  
  
And Jean lands several more quick smacks on both cheeks alternately. They aren’t hard, and my boy is a tough nut so it's not like he’s hurting. He just… doesn’t like it. After several minutes though, the heat is bound to start building up. And now Cyke is wriggling and whimpering a bit and puts a hand behind him to shield his butt.  
  
“Oww Doc, enough please!”  
  
She chuckles as I hold his wrists together behind him, not too tight. I do it mostly to feel those stubborn fists of his in mine.  
  
“You blocked me out.”  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“You went out on your own without informing anyone.”  
  
“I’m sorry!”  
  
“You’re never doing that ever again Cyclops. I don’t care if you’re the fucking field leader. You pull another stunt like that I will never speak to you again and no amount of flowers or grovelling or spanking will ever be penance enough you hear me?”  
  
He snivels a bit now, but I still don’t have to apply any force to keep him in place.  
  
“Yes. I’m… I’m sorry.”  
  
Jean gives him a few more then stops. A minute of rubbing his sore cheeks later, Scott asks if he could get up now.  
  
“So soon? We’re not done yet sweetie.”  
  
As he groans loudly, I let go of his wrists and get a hold of his slim waist to hoist him further upwards on Jean’s lap. His toes no longer touch the floor as his bare ass is now in perfect position for my left hand. Jean bends forward to kiss the back of his neck and hold his wrists together and out of my way.  
  
Then I give him my first swat.  
  
“OW!!”  
  
Oops. Didn’t realize how much harder my hand must be in comparison to Jean’s. Don’t get me wrong, I know Jean could have totally whaled away at him if she wanted to. But frankly, hurting him is not the idea… comeuppance is. As Scott struggles a bit,  
  
Jean shushes him like a child. “Come on love. I thought you wanted me and Logan to have some fun together.”  
  
“Ouch!… I changed my mind ow!”  
  
More spanking follows before I ask. “But this is the threesome you wanted, kid!”  
  
“What?? No I... I didn’t want a threesome!”  
  
“Oh yeah? What did you want then?”  
  
“…”  
  
Silence follows, as both me and Jean wait for a response. A particularly hard smack is required to make him talk.  
  
“Owww! Logan!!”  
  
Jean strokes his back. “What _do_ you want, hon?”  
  
“I… uh I just… want…”  
  
There is moisture in his voice so I stop and instead massage the curves of his beautiful buttocks.  
  
“What, bub?”  
  
He weeps now. “I… don’t want you to be… pissed at me anymore… c-can't stand it…”  
  
Jesus. Okay that’s it. Game over.  
  
I redress my boy and turn him so he’s face up… his eyes large and wet and… so fucking beautiful. I press him into my chest hugging him hard as he curls up against me. Jean huffs.  
  
//Why do _you_ get to do this every time?//  
  
She leans in on the other side of Scott and rests her face against the back of his head softly kissing his neck and shoulders and everything she can reach over and over. I rock him and immediately Jean picks up the rhythm and rocks with us.  
  
“It wasn’t you… never you. I love you Scott.” she says.  
  
Scott wipes his tears off my flannel and looks up to me. Expecting me to say something as well. I couldn’t disappoint my baby.  
  
“We both do.”  
  
Sometime during our chase down the New York drainage network, me and Doc had come to an understanding… that Scott came first. He is the only priority we have. Over petty jealousies, and stupid schedules, ego hassles… everything. Jean caresses his chest in long strokes from behind.  
  
“And we promise, we’re not going to snipe over you anymore.”  
  
He just snivels. “You will, in your heads. Behind my back.”  
  
I push his hair back from his face. “We won't.”  
  
He looks at Jean expectantly. “So, will you two…”  
  
“Jesus, Summers, don’t start that again!”  
  
“Okay! Stopped.” He says quickly.  
  
Jean mock sneers, pinches his butt and he squirms to get away. I chuckle and grip him closer to myself.  
  
“Let’s just say, I had an epiphany last night.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“Yeah. I realized… as far as lovers go… you really could do much worse than… Claws here.”  
  
I smirk at the indirect compliment as she rolls her eyes at me. “Better him than that… sewer skank.”  
  
Jeannie’s really applying herself to come up with creative insults for that Morlock. Scott is much more composed now, he tries to sit up but I don’t let him. So he stays.  
  
“You know I realized something too. See Doc was so pissed last night, she coulda killed Callisto in a second. In fact when Callisto got stabbed through the heart, we could have just left her to die. But we didn’t. _Jean_ didn’t.”  
  
Scott hadn’t known that, he looks down and swallows hard. Pulls a leg up to bend it by the knee and shakes that knee from side to side like a child deep in thought. I continue assuming I still have his attention.  
  
“And I think to myself… dude… with all the shit that I put her through? With you and the fucking schedule? This psychic wench could kill me a hundred times over twice a day… with her _brain_...”  
  
I chuckle, so does she. Scott just nibbles at his lower lip, doesn’t look up.  
  
“But she probably hasn't because… that ain't love. People who truly love you could never try to abduct you or lock you away from the rest of the world against your will? They might want to… so bad… but they won't actually do that to ya.”  
  
Scott cracks a shy smile at that. Him looking at me like that… feels like heaven.  
  
“I can't keep you from what your heart desires bub. If I did that, I’m no better than Callisto.”  
  
Cyke studies me like he’s seeing me for the first time, and in a way maybe he is. From this distance. Like he is memorizing everything about my face, like he’d never get to see me again. Finally he nods subtly, and that’s enough. Scott rests back against me and Jean puts some distance between us and herself by leaning against the headboard. He doesn’t let go of her hand though and clings on tight…  
  
Goes back to staring out the windows.  
  
Takes in the mansion grounds, the forest at the far end… the clear blue sky with a handful of clouds and the hills in the background. Occasionally his eyes turn to look at Jean, me… but I think it hurts him too much. Time ticks away in silence and we just sit there… relishing the calmness.  
  
I rock him off and on, he lets me. I can't stop staring into his face non-stop, he lets me do that too. Jeannie isn’t coping too well either, until eventually he sighs.  
  
“Guys… knock it off.”  
  
A tear escapes Jean’s eyes that she tries to hide by turning away. He lifts her hand to his mouth and kisses it almost in holy reverence. Makes a valiant effort to lighten her mood.  
  
“I bet you feel so much better after whupping my ass, Doc.”  
  
She chuckles, still wiping at her eyes.  
  
“Let's just hope you remember today next time you try to set me up on a date with someone that’s not you, Summers.”  
  
We all laugh shortly. The cheer doesn’t last long though and we lose Scott to the window again.  
  
“How much time do I have?”  
  
“About three hours.”  
  
I feel the quiet shivers run down his spine and it hurts… physically pains me to know those eyes will be back in their quartz cage in less than three hours. He exhales again.  
  
“Let's go for a walk. To the lake?”  
  
Jean nods quietly and we relax our stronghold over him so he can get up. He wants to go see the world one last time… before everything goes back to red and migraine again. Pangs of jealousy rise up in my throat but I push them down doggedly.  
  
Hell there will always be something else, someone else catching Scott’s attention… taking precedence, pulling him away from me now and again. And I must learn to accept it, learn to share my boy with the world. It was after all his choice to make, and I must honor that.

  
  
**//**//**

  
  
So what's my boy's color, you ask? - Blue. Definitely blue.  
  
The pristine blue of the lake we made love in for the first time. The shimmering blue of his gaze scanning a Morlock crowd with dread… that suddenly turned to relief when it came to rest on me. The plain blue of his excruciatingly crisp shirts neatly organized by weekdays in his closet. The stunning blue of a twenty one carat Kashmir sapphire embedded in Scott’s ring.  
  
On Jean’s left hand.

  
***** END *****  


End file.
